Thursday, March 5, 2009

The Answer To All My Problems

Tonight, I spoke with one of my friends back in the Old Country. In the course of our conversation, I got updates on what all the people I used to know were up to. I like to do this every so often as the quantity of random details I can collect via Facebook about people I have been out of contact with for a decade or more is woefully insufficient. I mean, I need that detail. In particular, I need the catty gossip and snarky commentary that, for some odd reason, people generally do not include in their status updates. I mean, Carrie might report in her status how happy she is that her brother got married, but will she also report that she hates her new sister-in-law because the sister-in-law is a controlling twat? Of COURSE not! For that, you need to talk to Carrie or one of her friends.

Anyway, one person I used to know just got married. Rudimentary details were on Facebook.

Old Friend: She must be gorgeous.

Me: From what I can see, she is normal. I mean, pretty, but not like a model.

Old Friend: Really??!! (Rather shocked because said person is 1) hot 2) smart and 3) very aware of his market value)

Me: Oh, but she is a professional dancer. (This I had learned from Old Friend #2). So she has the whole, exotic lifestyle/ glamorous career thing going on. That gives her major points—she does not have to be nearly as attractive. Fuck, she can look, sound and smell like Jabba the Hut and get a guy. Because she is not some ordinary shmo. She is a dancer. An artist.

Old Friend: [reverently] An aaaarrrrtist.

And that is when it hit me! I am single because I am an accountant. Do not get me wrong, I love my job, but even I have to admit that it is scores rather low on the "glamour" scale. Based on the above equation, in order to offset my profession's high "boring" rating and the associated negative points, I need to be drop-dead gorgeous in order to get a guy. And I'm…well…not.

It is a problem. But it is a problem that can be solved.

All I have to do is to enter a more glamorous profession. Something with enough bonus points to make me attractive overall. At first, I thought about how I could do this with my current profession—you know, make accounting more creative—but could not come up with anything that would not involve heavy penalties and jail time. Then, it came to me: Gila, you write!

Well then, that is easy enough. I am going to write a book. This will solve all of my problems.

My book will be a literary masterpiece. It will have two covers and loads of pages with words on them. On the back cover or maybe one of the final pages—I have not decided yet—there will be a photo of me looking intelligent and sexy and writer-like and a brief biography which will highlight my creative, glamorous, artistic, bohemian spirit. I even have a name for my book: The Amazing Adventures of Roxie the Diet. It will feature such titillating and dramatic chapters as: The Birth of Roxie, Roxie Cooks, Roxie Goes Jogging and Roxie's Revenge. It will have an end, in which I take Roxie out and smash her with a hammer. Or smother her with some pastries from Naaman.

A writer. An author. An aaaarrrrtist.

I am SO excited! Glamour points are all within reach.

Do not worry. When I am a glamorous, exciting author pursued by zillions of eligible men, I will remember you, the little people, who got me started.

Delurking to tell you that I would totally buy that book! I'm an accountant too and solved the problem by marrying a fellow accountant....talk about a snooze fest! We are so boring that we can put each other to sleep! Love your blog!

New to My Shrapnel? Start at the beginning:

About Me

Message from the Bombing Victim Muppet

I am, of course, neither sad, nor heroic nor particularly victimized. What I am is an "ordinary Joe" who was seriously injured six years ago in a suicide bombing while waiting for a bus at the Machane Yehuda open air market in Jerusalem.

Ever since I learned how to write, writing has served as a sort of therapy for me. In the months and years after the bombing, I did an enormous amount of writing. What I was thinking. What I was feeling. How the world reacted to me. How my bombed-out self reacted to the world. Some of the articles were sent to friends and relatives via email lists. Many more of them just sat on my computer. I always meant to do something with them.

Of course, I never got around to it.

This year, I promised myself that I would, at last do something. And since blogging is the best way to do something without having to do all that much (no publishers, no rejections, no work apart from editing), I decided that this was the way to go.

Please comment. I am putting these out so that people will read them. Let me know that you are reading.